My freshmen year I lived in Sessums. The all-girls, community style shit hole of a dorm on the very edge of campus located directly across from the sketchy Burger King. My roommate, Mandalin, and I managed to make it through the year alive, only fighting off three cockroaches. We were told that community style dorms were not that horrid and that everyone chills with their doors open, hangs out together, and is one big happy family. Think the opposite. We had a handful of friends upstairs that we mostly hung out with, but the rest of the girls on our hall weren’t the friendliest, nor the most normal.

Being in a sorority, you think that after these awful dorms, you will upgrade to the mansion of a house that sits on The Row and then get a big-girl apartment for the 2 remainder years of college. However, my lovely sorority threw a major curve ball into those dreams by implementing a new rule stating that we must live in sorority housing for 4 semesters, or 2 years. Which meant off to the sorority dorm, Hathorn, we go.

During the summer, I constantly reminded myself that it wasn’t going to be as bad as Sessums was. I would have some sisters and Hathorn was a little bit newer than my old home. Although, it wasn’t the luxury of the house, filled with all of my Legally Blonde dreams of doing makeup together, always being with all of my sisters, and having boys pick me up at the front door.

And honestly I wasn’t pumped about living in a stupid dorm again.

I literally lived in the slums of campus, I can only go up from there, right?

I moved into Hathorn and my expectations were not only surpassed, but blown out of the water. I live smack dab in the middle of 40 of my sisters, whom most I haven’t really hung out with prior to this year. Music is constantly blaring throughout the hallways, showers are full of daily chats and laughter, and our doors are always open. I am 5 feet away from two of my closest friends, Madeline and Olivia, who always have sour candy and hugs waiting for me.

I have 40 workout buddies, 40 girls who can do makeup or hair, 40 girls who are always willing to go to Walmart or cookout or just chat, 40 girls who are sisters. I have never felt closer to my sorority or to these girls. Plus, I know all of their names which I have to admit, last year I did not.

We get ready, share the campus gossip, hate on boys, share clothes, stay out way too late, eat, and carpool everywhere together. It is Legally Blonde but better. I could yell down the hall for a toothbrush or a blue top, or a cup of coffee and someone will pop out and supply it to me. Life couldn’t be better in, as we call it, HathHood.

Next year I will move into the house, the big glowing one on The Row, but it will be nothing like it is right now. Sophomore year is our year, the year of Hathorn, the year of sisters, and I cannot wait to see what kind of memories this 20 room hallway gives us.